Tableau
by Kamukura
Summary: Theatre AU drabbles and ficlets with a loosely related plot: Kuroko is a playwright, and the rest are actors.
1. You Are Mine

_"'Please, close the world of today'_  
_But that hole opens up to give me a role to play_  
_'Please, feel ashamed of the me from today'_  
_But that hole opens up a role for an idiot to play"_

-Deco*27

* * *

The lecture hall was rather plain and drab with dark carpet flooring, decade old wallpaper in need of replacing, and uncleaned windows placed high near the ceiling. A pedestal stood at the far center of the room where all the seats led down to a simple, dusty black board behind it. At a certain time of day, you could see every single speck of dust within the universe drifting lazily through the unoccupied space. It was an amazing sight in its own right.

That didn't stop officials from hosting the competition in the old, unused building out of Touo Academy's many newest additions. One of the more eccentric alumnus standing in as a judge even liked the atmosphere it gave them when they stepped through its doors. It was "like I had stepped through time back to the old days" they had said.

Aomine Daiki would have liked to say otherwise, because it was a shitty place to have multiple people occupying it when he had found it first, but they would have kicked him out of the slam for misconduct and insubordination. Once everything was over and done with, Aomine could go back to peacefully reading his magazines in his special safe spot in the back.

But, hey, he could at least have an opinion, right? The majority always overruled the minority, and Aomine was it. Aomine would have to express his protest in another form, and he would have his way once he was through with them.

"Contestant number 5, please come out onto the stage for your performance," one of the MCs droned monotonously through the microphone. The dark-skinned university student had a fleeting image of his old high school friend speaking in their place.

Aomine adjusted the stick-on number he had placed on his light brown sweater, noting the fuzz it had taken along with it.  
He sighed as he lurked to his place on the pedestal with a drag to his feet. It was his favorite sweater, and the darn stickers would ruin the material when he threw it in the wash. The day was starting out in the worst of ways.

"State your name, please," the alumnus judge requested with an amused smile through his mic as Aomine strutted into view. He had apparently seen the reluctant act Aomine had pulled before slapping some common decency into himself.

"Aomine Daiki," he drawled with a scratch behind his head, unintentionally appearing bored.

The guy, technically only a few years his senior, raised his dark eyebrows in surprise behind his glasses. "Ah, you're _that_ Aomine Daiki. I've heard much about you from my underclassmen."

"Is that so?" Aomine's reluctant expression transformed into a smug smirk. "Good stuff or bad?"

"Interchangeable."

"I wouldn't expect anything less."

"Ahem," the stiff-looking judge beside the glasses guy interrupted. "Imayoshi, now is not the time for making conversation with the contestants."

"Of course," Imayoshi replied, courteously. He curtly introduced himself to Aomine. "Imayoshi Shouichi, alumnus judge of this year's Touo Academy Poetry Slam. You may start, Aomine."

Aomine adjusted his sweater and shook out his shoulders to loosen the pre-performance tension. He inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, allowing his breathing to level to normal. The dark-skinned man closed his eyes from the glare of the narrow light filtering through the windows. No matter what other people said about fearless actors, speaking in front of a crowd was nerve-wracking, even for him. Actors and spokespersons only appeared fearless precisely because of the efficient method of cooling down they did beforehand. They were only human.

After a moment, Aomine was ready. To let the judges wait too long would mean disqualification or low marks.

He opened his eyes to the artificial warmth of the spotlight Kuroko had admired so much.


	2. or Gold?

Kuroko heard a rumor from the giggling girls in the cafeteria that Kise, the newly recruited multi-talented model, would eat his lunch alone on the roof. No one was allowed to intrude in his quiet space except for the people he personally invited. To the disappointment of his fans, there had yet to be anyone to accompany him.

The rumor piqued his interest. Kuroko stealthily snuck away from Aomine and Momoi beside their spot under the shade of a tree.

It was high time he got to know more about his "pupil".

As he made his way up the stairs, Kuroko heard a faint rhythmic humming drifting from the open door.

"_Your voice starts fading…_"

Singing?

"_As if swallowed by the red..._"

The voice sounded faintly like the blond's. It was a beautiful, melancholic melody he remembered had been playing in the piano room earlier that day.

"_At this rate, you're going to vanish...and will become a part of the sky._"

Kuroko left the roof silently with a single thought: there was more to Kise Ryouta than his ridiculously pretty face let on.

* * *

The song Kise is singing is Glow (the version I had in mind is sung by nero).


	3. Vanilla Pudding or

The president had pulled Kuroko aside from play practice to tell him some important news. They sat themselves at the club room's lone table, which had several pieces of snack wrappers and crumbs across its surface.

"You'll be guiding the rookie that will be joining us in a few days. His name is Kise Ryouta in class 2-C. Please do your part in assisting him as you do us," Akashi requested firmly, as he continued to jot down on his planner.

"Do you wish for me to have it on or off?" Kuroko asked, noticing a large, green frog plush placed in one of the seats at the table. He made a mental note to visit the piano room some time tomorrow or the day after. Midorima's musical score needed to be picked up eventually.

"Which ever you think would work best with Kise-kun. But honestly, I would think to keep it on to incite curiosity and keep him interested."

"If you say so, then I will." Kuroko pushed back his seat to leave.

"Ah," Akashi halted him before he stepped out the door, "but don't announce yourself to him yet. Observe, accumulate information, and wait until I officially introduce him to the other members. Then can you make your appearance."

"All right, Akashi-kun."

The redhead nodded curtly and diverted his attention back to his clipboard and planner, ending the conversation.

Outside the clubroom, Kuroko started in the direction of the student dorm's mess hall. Technically, he wasn't allowed to be there because he commuted to school, but there was an exception for students with extracurriculars and sports. Instead of club activities, Kuroko's mind filled with the thought of food.

"_Ah, what kind of bentou should I bring for Aomine-kun and Momoi-san? Vanilla pudding? It was supposed to be a nice day tomorrow, too..._"

* * *

A/N:

Loosely related prequel to the previous chapter. Not really much plot yet, but their world is starting to form little by little.

[Also, it would be better to follow this story on ao3 under the same title. I included a chapter that would explain the future roles of potential characters.]


	4. An intro for the last rising star

I'm going backwards with this for some reason, but rest assured the Miragen will be introduced properly. Some semblance of a plot is forming for the Teiko Theatre Club arc, at last!

* * *

Akashi had informed the main actors Aomine, Midorima, Murasakibara, Haizaki, and Kuroko of another member who would be joining their ranks in the theatre club.

"I feel he has the inert potential to become a great actor. He is especially popular with many of the student body, so he would be a useful addition to attract a larger audience," Akashi said to them as they sprawled on the edge of the stage.

"So who's this new guy?" Aomine asked, curiously. "You said he was popular."

"He is Kise Ryouta-kun," Kuroko answered in Akashi's place. "You must be a real theatre eccentric not to have heard of him."

Momoi had silently entered the auditorium while their redhead club president was speaking and piped in when she heard a familiar name. "I know right! Dai-chan is no match for Kise Ryouta when it comes to sports, modeling, and sewing."

"Oi," Aomine protested, "I just chose theatre because the exercises they make you do in sports are such a pain. Dancing and acting are easier. And what's with sewing?"

"According to what I heard, he's absolutely _amazing_—"

"Yeah, yeah, I get the idea," he interrupted, slightly annoyed at his childhood friend's chatter. "He's a freaking prodigy. But the question is, can he sing, act, dance, and memorize lines?" The question was directed at Akashi.

The redhead gazed at his clipboard, contemplating it. "I did say he had the potential. Why don't you see him for yourself?"

"What?" Aomine said, intelligently.

"Welcome to the Teiko Theatre Club, Kise-kun," Akashi declared in a loud voice, addressing the back of the auditorium. Everyone present turned to stare. A tall blond had walked in and was gazing at the expensive equipment and wide space of the facility with awe.

"Hello," he said, a bit taken back at the eyes trained on him. "My name is Kise Ryouta. I'll be in your care from now on."

"Aw, man, now we have a pretty boy to deal with," Haizaki complained to no one in particular. "Why does our club never have normal people in it?"

"You aren't really in a position to say, Haizaki-kun," Kuroko mumbled off to the side.

"Did you say something, Tetsuya?"

"I did not."

"That's what I thought."

During Kuroko and Haizaki's exchange, Akashi had asked the other members to introduce themselves.

"Yo. I'm Aomine Daiki." Aomine raised a hand in greeting as he stretched out on the floor of the stage with an arm propped under his head.

"Dai-chan!" Momoi said, indignantly. She looked pleadingly at Kise. "Sorry, Kise-san. He's just bad with new people. Oh! And I'm Momoi Satsuki, this idiot's childhood friend."

"Hello, Momoi-chan." Kise flashed a polite, dazzling smile in her direction. "I don't mind with Aominecchi's manners."

"'Aominecchi?'" Momoi and Aomine sputtered simultaneously. They glared at each other.

"Hi, I'm Murasakibara Atsushi. I like eating and colors are nice." Murasakibara stood to his full height to shake the blond's hand. He ignored the two childhood friends' insistent bickering.

"Whoa," Kise exhaled in surprise, estimating the height difference between them as his hand was encased in the other's larger one. "Not that I've ever played it before, but you could definitely own it on a basketball court."

"So I've been told," the giant said blandly, picking at the dried paint under his nails. "But I like to be inside with air conditioning. Did you know we have a cooler?"

"Good evening, Kise. I am Midorima Shintarou of class 2-A. I am the member who composes most of the music for the plays. Come to me anytime if you have any questions regarding it," Midorima introduced himself with a formal and pompous air.

"Mido-chin, I was talking…" Murasakibara muttered quietly, but didn't bother to continue their conversation.

"You're the Midorima from the poster credits. That's amazing," Kise said, awestruck, already having moved on to the high school student with glasses. "Do you want to be a songwriter, Midorimacchi?"

"No, the actual songwriting role is left to someone else. I produce the music and orchestral portion," Midorima explained, purposely leaving out Kuroko's name. "And what's with 'Midorimacchi?'"

"It's a nickname I give to people I respect."

"Stop that, please."

"But I can't stop respecting such a talented person so suddenly." Kise pouted.

Midorima pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose with a click of his tongue. "Can't be helped, then." He strode toward the stage to snatch his lucky item of the day as he brushed past the blond to leave. "Now, if you'll excuse me."

"Is he always so stingy?" Kise turned to the others as the doors slammed shut behind him.

"Nah, the guy just has a permanent stick up his ass. And he might be little embarrassed at you laying the praise so thick." Haizaki smirked. "So. I heard you sew?"

Aomine sighed and pushed himself up to a sitting position. "Dude, just leave the new guy alone. We never make fun of you for dealing with our hair during performances."

Haizaki chuckled. "Come on, I haven't even said anything yet. Isn't it the job of the senpai to tease the kouhai?"

"It's not your place to interfere with Kise-kun. I have put Kuroko-kun in charge of mentoring him." Akashi took authority of the conversation smoothly. He leveled his gaze with Haizaki. "Do not cause any trouble within the club."

"Alright, I get it." Haizaki put his hands up in mock surrender. "I gotta get going anyways. Nice seeing you today, rookie." He patted Kise's shoulder none too gently on his way out.

Quiet fell in the auditorium as he left. Murasakibara was munching on a snack he had materialized from somewhere on his person. Aomine was tapping his fingers to the beat of a tune he was listening to on his music player. Momoi was somewhere backstage. Akashi was studiously tapping away on his laptop.

The tension dissipated when Kise came out with a reasonable question.

"Um, who is 'Kuroko-kun?'"

Aomine slapped his palm to his forehead, as if it just occurred to him. "We've known Tetsu for a year, yet we still forgot about him!"

"Oh. I knew we were forgetting something." Murasakibara paused in the process of chewing. "Or someone."

"Kuroko-kun usually introduces himself last," Akashi said speculatively, all the while concentrating solely on whatever he was working on. "His old habits are appearing again."

"Huh?" Kise looked at each member incredulously. "You talk as if this Kuroko person is a ghost or an easily lost pet."

"A ghost, you say…" Aomine trailed off, thinking hard. "I guess Tetsu is like a ghost or a phantom."

"'_Phantom of the Opera_', you mean?" the redhead suggested with precise pronunciation.

"Aw, just like with Kuro-chin's—" Murasakibara gestured vaguely at his face, "right?"

"I thought this was the theatre club, not the supernatural club?" Kise shivered inwardly as he imagined a hunched-over man wearing an ominous mask cackling behind the shadows of the stage.

Aomine grinned widely. "Who knows? Whenever that guy's here, it practically _is_ like we're in some kind of horror story."

"H-horror story?"

"Dai-chan," Momoi appeared from the left stage exit, face stern in motherly disapproval, "Mukkun, and Akashi-kun. Don't tease Kise-san after warning Haizaki-san not to."

"I'm sorry, Sacchin and Kise-chin."

"My apologies, Momoi-san and Kise-kun."

"Yeah. Sorry, Kise."

Kise raised his hands in a flurry. "That's alright. I just wanted to know who he was."

"As I've said before, Kuroko-kun is in charge of script and, partly, lyrics to our plays," Akashi explained, informatively. "He is your mentor until you understand the basic workings of how we run activities in the club."

"When can I meet him?" Kise asked.

"Actually, he's right—huh? Where'd Tetsu go?" Aomine twisted his head around to search for the missing member in question.

"Uwah. Kuro-chin is so lucky to sneak away so easily," Murasakibara remarked with what sounded like admiration. "He left a little after Zaki-chin did."

Aomine turned to the taller member. "And why didn't you bother telling us this?" he demanded.

"You were too busy listening to your music and fighting with Sacchin like a wife and husband. And I forgot."

"Hah?"

"Wife and husband?" Momoi repeated, overhearing the last bit.

They relentlessly denied that they were not like husband and wife to the disinterested Murasakibara, who continued eating his snacks. Akashi had paused in his task to walk up to Kise and inform him, "He is usually in the spare piano room of our club room or the lone table in the library, so I would suggest you meet him before he leaves."

"Okay?" Kise agreed, uncertainly.

"That's your first order of business," the redhead said with a joking smile, yet his serious tone said otherwise.

"Y-yes!"

As Akashi watched Kise teeter toward the exit, he wondered of the possibilities the blond would bring to their club. His gaze sharpened as he noted the troublesome third year member who barely managed to keep himself in it, attending activities irregularly only once a week.

_What would Nijimura-senpai have done?_ Akashi always thought to look to Nijimura for guidance, and he reminded himself every time that the third year had other matters to take care of outside of school. He could not be babied anymore by his senpai. He had been entrusted with the club in his absence.

_Don't worry, I'll make sure this club and its members succeed with the _'_bang_' _you have always yearned for._

Sending the attention-grabbing boy to the boy with lacking presence would produce interesting results.


	5. Drowsy, Dreary, Drizzlin'

I know I haven't updated in months, but I finally got a burst of inspiration! I had this part mostly done but I just needed a way to end it nicely.

summary: Kise is awkward and nervous in the face of adversary (one whose face he hasn't actually seen yet).

* * *

Kise tittered nervously. There was no way there was a ghost in the club room. Akashi had said there were no ghosts. But the other members Aomine, Murasakibara, and even Momoi had implied there was a person who resembled one. Could it be they were indirectly trying to assure him so he wouldn't get scared and back down?

But it was so dark in the club room, dark but for the slim ray of light leading to a slightly ajar door to an adjacent room. He assumed it was the spare piano room the club president was talking about.

Key notes filtered ominously through the crack in the door. Kise peeked through it to see a lone person's back by a desk light placed above an upright piano. Their silhouette darkened the white Teiko blazer they wore.

And here he was loitering and watching a person (?) like a stalker. Imagine what his fans would think:

"Kise Ryouta, popular model and student athlete, caught stalking a fellow Teikou student after hours! Gross!"

_No, no, no. I, Kise Ryouta, will not ruin my career so early in life. I don't need to sneak around to make myself known!_

Just as he thought that, his elbow jammed into the door to make it creak open with a squeak. The person stopped playing and turned slightly toward him. It was too late to go back on his word.

"U-um, hello?" Kise greeted, opening the door the rest of the way.

"How long have you been there?" A gentle, boyish voice came from the person. Most of his face was obscured in the shadows with the light behind him, highlighting the tips of their bright hair nearly translucent.

"I just got here," Kise lied as he stepped further into the room. "I'm the new member of the theatre club, Kise Ryouta."

"I know you," the boy said. "Akashi-kun told me you would be coming today."

"Are you Kuroko?" Kise asked, hesitantly.

"Yes. I'll be your mentor from here now on." As he was speaking, thunder rumbled outside. Lightning flashed inside the room from the window, revealing the other boy's features.

Kise immediately saw half of a white mask and wide, piercing blue eyes gazing at him expectantly from behind it. The lighting cast dramatic, intimidating shadows across the contours of his face.

"...Kise-kun, what are you doing in the corner?"

"W-what?" Kise peered at Kuroko from behind his arms as he forced himself to stop shivering from fear in the corner of the room. "I was just, uh…" Kise had no legit excuse. "P-please don't possess me!"

"...Huh?"

"I'm too young and successful to be possessed by a ghost!"

"Kise-kun." The masked boy's voice was stern and low like when his manager wanted him to behave. "I am not a ghost."

"Then you really are a student here? But that mask...Could it be because…?" Perhaps, like the Phantom of the Opera, Kuroko had some kind of reason not to show his face.

"No." Zero hesitation was given in shooting down the question. He rose from the piano bench to gather his materials into his school bag. "I will have to speak with you again at a later date. We'll continue our proper introductions next time, Kise-kun."

"Wait—!" As Kise was about to grab the other boy's arm, two different ringtones interrupted him mid sentence. "Ugh, why now?"

_**[To: Me (OuO)/** (Kise Ryouta-kun~)**_

_**From: Miss Grumpy Auntie (Manager)**_

**Hey, where are you? You have an appointment with XXX in 30 minutes!**

**Are you still at that meeting with your drama club?]**

Kise quickly texted her back, casting a fleeting glance up at Kuroko rummaging around in his school bag.

_**[Kise Ryouta-kun~: **_**yep i was just meeting the last member of the "Theatre" club. i'll be leaving the school soon \\(o)/**

_**Manager: **_**If you don't leave now, you'll be late. I hope you have an umbrella with you. I can't deal with a sick client.**

_**Kise Ryouta-kun~: **_**yes, yes~! see you then~! (owo)J**]**

Kise turned off his phone and opened his mouth to continue his conversation with Kuroko. When he looked up from his cell screen, he was alone. He walked over to the spot Kuroko had previously stood and glanced down at the umbrella and ripped sheet of notebook paper left in his place. He gathered the umbrella under one arm and read the hastily scribbled message with the other.

'_Akashi-kun texted me saying you probably needed an umbrella, and I have a spare one you can use. Keep it until we meet again. -Kuroko_'

"Short and cryptic." Kise mused in disbelief as he stowed the note away in his pocket. "He seems straightforward yet so mysterious for a guy my age. Seriously, what's with that mask? Is he into cosplay?" _And I didn't even get to see his face._

Kise's attention was distracted by another clap of thunder booming off in the distance.

"Oh no," he muttered as he looked at the time on his cellphone. He dashed out of the club room, quickly closing the door as he ran with all his might.

Later, he thanked his short experience in track for barely arriving at the studio with a few minutes to spare and enough time to avoid his manager's scalding glare. The kind but flustered make-up artist quickly brushed up his face before they began the photo shoot.

The evening sped past with the raging storm humming in the background. At last, they finally wrapped up for the night and his manager dropped him off at his temporary city apartment for work days.

After a long, hot shower, Kise walked into his near bare bedroom as he scrubbed his hair dry with a towel. He gathered his discarded uniform and tossed it into the growing pile of dirty laundry.

A crumpled piece of paper fell out of his pant pocket and onto the floor at his feet. Kise picked it up and unraveled the wrinkled note, rereading the smudged handwriting. An arrow he hadn't noticed earlier pointed to the other side. Curious, he flipped it over.

'*_XXX-XXXX ← text me so X __our club can contact you if you're busy with your job on Wednesdays.'_

He raised an eyebrow at the crossed out word, but complied and went to fish out his cellphone from his bag. He input the string of numbers he'd already memorized by heart and clicked save.

His next actions were entirely unintentional.

"...Hello?"

Kise felt sweat drip on the back of his neck. It was the same voice. "This is Kuroko, right?" He hadn't meant to call him right away and at such a—he cast a glance at his alarm clock ticking away half past 7—late hour. Kise mentally smacked himself for being so impulsive.

"Correct. This is Kise-kun, I presume."

"Yeah..."

The line went silent. If Kise strained his ears, he could hear the clatter of dishes and Kuroko's barely audible breathing.

"Is that all you needed?"

Kise scrambled for an answer. "Uh, I guess." Great. Smooth.

A slightly louder exhalation which Kise knew from countless interactions with quiet people was a short laugh, "I did tell Kise-kun to text me once he got my number, but what made you think to call me instead?" Kuroko asked in a lighter voice. Was he perhaps teasing him?

Kise placed a hand over his mouth as his lips curled upwards out of his own accord. He laid and stretched out onto his bed.

"It feels more real if we speak to each other rather than talk through texts, don't you think? It feels more…" Kise paused as he looked for the right word. "...intimate?"

He felt like an idiot for misusing the word. He meant _friendly._

"We just met each other, Kise-kun. Anything more intimate than acquaintances would be quite sudden." Rustling could be heard as his cellphone was probably being moved from one ear to another. "But we can build up our relationship to gradually be club members and then friends."

"Sure, that sounds great!" Why did he feel the need to enforce more enthusiasm into his voice. "I'll see you tomorrow, maybe?"

"Of course. Good night, Kise-kun."

"Good night."

The click of Kuroko hanging up sounded in his ear. Kise barely registered it through the fog of embarrassment and heat rising to his cheeks.

"Why did I just do that, oh my god, that's so embarrassing, he's going to think I'm embarrassing and overly friendly!" He pressed his face into a pillow and screamed as the last few minutes replayed in his head. "Stupid, stupid, stupid! Aaaah!"

After screaming for a bit longer, his embarrassment faded and his face felt slightly cooler. Kise peered at his phone screen in his hand where Kuroko's number blinked on and off passively.

"At least I know he wasn't a ghost after all." He let out a drawn out yawn as he clutched the pillow closer. Today was so exhausting, in more ways than one.

Kise turned his head toward the window where rain pattered against the glass in waves. The evening storm had become more subdued as it transitioned into night, which he was glad for. Stormy nights alone made him restless.

A heaviness settled on Kise as he stared unfocused at the repetitive splashes of water on the pane. Before he knew it, his lids began to droop closed. One coherent thought crossed his mind before he let sleep take him.

_The wind...sounds so far away._


End file.
